


Of Cold Weather, Comfort, and Casserole

by nanosorcerer



Series: IKYFAD Oneshots [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, College Student Peter Parker, Cyborg Tony Stark, Doctor Dad, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, I Knew You For A Day Oneshot, Iron Dad, Italian Iron Dad, Italian Tony Stark, M/M, Married Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Survived Endgame, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family, Trans Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanosorcerer/pseuds/nanosorcerer
Summary: Peter goes home for a well-earned Christmas break once he finishes his exams, through driving through a blizzard probably isn’t the smartest thing he’s ever done. Tony is more forgiving than the Doc, as the sorcerer is haunted by ghosts of his own accident as he worries for the safety of his son. Family fluff ensues.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Stephen Strange, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: IKYFAD Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082306
Comments: 9
Kudos: 114





	Of Cold Weather, Comfort, and Casserole

**Author's Note:**

> Italian Tony has my entire heart and soul
> 
> This oneshot takes place a year and a half after I Knew You For A Day
> 
> Italian to English (This is from Google translate, don’t come for my throat if it’s inaccurate.)
> 
> Cosa è successo, piccola? Sta bene? - What happened, babe? Is he okay?  
> Te lo dico dopo. Ha bisogno di te adesso. - I’ll tell you later. He needs you right now.  
> Vieni qui, amore mio. - Come here, my love.  
> bambino ragno - spider baby  
> più di tutte le stelle della galassia - more than all the stars in the galaxy  
> Sei la luce della mia vita, e ciò che fa battere il mio cure - You’re the light of my life, and what keeps my heart beating.  
> Inoltre, sono molto meglio di prima. Mi piace pensare di aver cambiato i miei modi da quando ho avuto figli. - Besides, I'm much better than I used to be. I'd like to think I've changed my ways since having kids.  
> Non posso aiutare se ho sonno. Leri sera russavi come una motosega. - I can't help if I'm sleepy. You were snoring like a chainsaw last night.  
> tesoro - darling  
> Ti amo anch’io, ragazzo. - I love you too, kid.

His hands drumming an anxious beat on the steering wheel, Peter felt his tension unravel with every mile he closed between himself and the cabin. 

Leaning forward to peer through the windshield obscured by swirling snow on the road ahead, Peter’s thumbs kept rhythm with the Guns N’ Roses song thrumming away on the radio, humming along under his breath in order to distract himself from the anxiety that had been knotted in his chest for the past two weeks. The first semester of his second year of university had been the hardest yet, leaving Peter completely run down after countless all nighters spent in the library, fuelled solely on ramen noodles and coffee as he crammed to study for exams, finish final assignments, and write papers well into the wee hours of the morning. As a result of all the stress and sleeplessness, Peter was practically a vibrating ball of anxiety by the end of his finals week, but had been too anxious to get home to start his Christmas break to worry about the fact that he hadn’t slept in the past seventy two hours. 

The Doc usually would have opened a gateway for him to drive through, saving Peter the four hour trip from Massachusetss, but the sorcerer had just recently fought in an inter dimensional battle that had drained all of his magical energy, and Tony had forbidden him from even attempting to open a gateway. Peter had of course agreed with his dad, concerned for the sorcerer’s well-being, but also hadn’t been willing to put off coming home any longer. He’d packed his duffel bag as soon as his last exam was over, ignoring the fuzzy feeling of fatigue dragging at the backs of his eyes as he threw his bag and coat into the back of his GTR.

The familiar rhythm of the Doc’s favourite Guns N’ Roses song blaring on the radio was enough to keep Peter awake once he had been on the road for a few hours, fast food wrappers keeping him company on the passenger seat beside him. He knew Dad and the Doc wouldn’t have liked him driving in such bad weather, especially with how tired he was, which was exactly why he’d neglected to call his parents after his exam as he usually would. He hadn’t told them he was coming home since Tony would have told him to spend the night in his dorm and make the trip in the morning. The Doc would probably have been able to manage opening a gateway by then, but waiting out the storm and his tiredness was exactly what Peter didn’t want. He hadn’t seen his dads in over two months and was dreading another night away from them, clenching his teeth with resolve as he squinted to see through the flurries of white, battling through the snow drifting across the road.

Peter felt himself being tugged under by sleep several times as he was driving, eyelids becoming heavy as if there were tiny lead weights attached to them, the haziness behind his eyes mixing in with the swirling snow and growing dusk around him. Less than half an hour from the cabin, a patch of black ice on the highway suddenly ripped the steering wheel from Peter’s hands as he felt the car begin to skid sideways, heart fluttering like a trapped bird as he felt himself lose control. His first thought was, ‘Pops is never going to forgive himself if I die like this.’ Peter blinked repeatedly to see through his tears, reminding himself to keep his foot off the brake like Tony had taught him, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he thought of gentle, shaking hands belonging to the man who had cautioned him about reckless driving countless times. Peter’s guardian angel must have been keeping a close eye on his sleep-deprived, reckless self as a snow drift nudged him back into a parallel position on the road, a sudden swath of snow across the road slowing down his out-of-control skid. 

Peter was frozen with shock when the car finally came to a standstill, sitting where he had stopped in the middle of the highway with his hazards on, taking deep, steady breaths until he was able to collect himself enough to get his bearings. It had all happened so fast that he’d barely had time to process what was happening until it was over, all of the possible, horrific outcomes turning over in his mind. Hastily wiping the tears from his cold yet flushed cheeks, Peter cursed himself for being reckless, for his spidey sense not kicking in before he hit the black ice, for almost hurting his parents like that. He could have broken down sobbing right then and there, or called his dads for help. He wanted nothing more than the Doc to open a gateway for him despite the sorcerer’s exhaustion, but Peter gathered his wits about him and slowly started off again, silently chanting to himself over and over that he was going to make it. 

Struggling to peer through the blowing snow, Peter was almost certain that he had missed the driveway after turning onto the familiar backcountry road half an hour later. It felt like he had been inching through the overwhelming whiteness for an eternity even thought the clock radio assured him that it had only been five minutes. Heart pounding in relief, Peter let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding when he spotted the telltale red mailbox through the flurry of white, slowly easing his way off the road and down the long, winding driveway. His heart was pounding with long withheld suspense as weeks worth of stress began to slowly ease off his shoulders like snow sliding off a roof, while his driving-induced anxiety was eased by the large poplar trees lining the driveway. The thick forest surrounding the cabin effectively shielded the front yard from the furious snowstorm raging around the lake, creating a bubble of safety, their family’s own little world where they could be shielded from the harsh reality of the world at large. 

Peter wasted no time in throwing his car door open as soon as he pulled up in front of the garage, scrabbling to grab his duffel bag and coat from the back seat. The path to the front of the cabin was covered with snow, probably filled in within the past few hours alone as the blizzard raged around the cabin and its cover of protective trees, leaving Peter to trudge his way up to the front porch through snow nearly up to his knees, though nothing could have stopped him from getting to that front door now. He was practically vibrating with the anticipation of seeing his dads after what had felt like an eternity, the calming energy and safety surrounding their family cabin seeping into his bones. Climbing up the porch steps, Peter was certain that he could already feel Tony’s bright, caring warmth and the Doc’s soothing steadiness, both of which he needed more than anything right now. It had really only been five weeks, but the turmoil of countless emotions and late nights brought on by exams and such a heavy workload had messed with the youth’s perception of time, the secluded loneliness he felt made worse by his deep attachment to both of his father figures. 

Peter fought with the front screen door in the howling winds, letting it bump against his duffel bag as he struggled inside and closed both doors quickly behind himself to keep the savage cold out. Hanging his coat up on the hook by the door, Peter was flooded with the familiarity of the cabin, ice cold fingers tingling as they adjusted to the heavenly warmth of the kitchen, the aromatic air laden with the scent of Tony’s trademark Italian casserole simmering in the oven. The homey scene was completed by the sight of a certain sorcerer reading at the kitchen table with his usual cardigan draped over broad shoulders, the image of poised regality despite his humble surroundings. 

“Pops?”

“Peter”, the Doc greeted, startled as he looked up from his book when he’d heard the teen come barging in the front door. “We weren’t expecting you home tonight”, he clarified, blinking at Peter with surprise from behind his reading glasses. The proud sorcerer hated that he needed a physical aid in reading, a strike against his vanity more than anything, but in that moment all Peter noticed was how old his Pops looked, worry creasing the lines in his kind face. Something broke in the boy’s chest, wanting desperately to be held and told that everything was going to be alright. Peter had been yearning for comfort in the past five weeks as stress mounted, doing his all not to crumble under the pressure, and the terror of his near car accident had added itself to the top of the pile. But now it was over and he was allowed to break, shoulders sagging as he let his bag drop, and he was forced to catch himself against the counter to keep from dropping to his knees. 

“Hey, hey. Steady there, son”, the Doc warned gently, rising from his chair in one fluid motion, standing in front of Peter and somehow steadying his shoulders with shaking hands. “You’re really pale, spiderling. When was the last time you ate?”

“Don’t remember”, Peter admitted after a moment of his fuzzy mind struggling to recount the past three days, letting himself succumb to deft hands checking his pulse. His wrist was trapped in one of the the Doc’s big, scarred hands, while the other was clamped gently on his shoulder, and it was the most grounded Peter had felt in weeks. “Where’s Dad?”

“Napping upstairs.”

“Can I go-?”

“You drove like this? And in this weather?”, the Doc cut him off with an accusing grumble after a moment of deliberation, clearly unimpressed by what the teen’s heart rate had betrayed to him. Peter winced under his icy gaze, unable to make eye contact with the sorcerer for fear of the disappointment he would find there. “You weren’t supposed to be coming home tonight, Peter, I thought I was going to pick you up sometime tomorrow afternoon. Why didn’t you call us if your plans had changed?”

“I didn’t want to wait another night”, Peter admitted, voice cracking as he kept his bleary vision trained on his own feet. “And I knew you’d make me stay there with the weather this bad.”

“Peter”, the Doc reasoned, voice softening as he braced both hands on his boy’s shoulders again, prompting Peter to make eye contact with him now that his glacial gaze wasn’t quite so frigid. “I could have opened a gateway for you, I would have been fine. I swear by the Vishanti, you’re too much like your dad sometimes.”

“I’m sorry”, Peter muttered, meeting the sorcerer’s face with teary eyes. “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself because of me. I just wanted to come home, Pops.”

“I know, we wanted you home too, just in a safer way. But I understand why you did it. You’re home now”, the sorcerer soothed, his body language softening as he carded his fingers through the wild mess of Peter’s hair. Silence filled the kitchen, and his grey-blue eyes met Peter’s pleadingly in a way that made the teen’s heart flip-flop in his chest. “I wish you had called me, though.”

“I’m sorry”, Peter repeated, for lack of knowing what else to say, and to make up for the guilt eating away at his chest. He wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if something had happened while he was driving home, panic settling into his chest as swirling snow flashed in his mind’s eye, terrifying images of what could have been overtaking his consciousness. The GTR’s crushed bumper, darkness, blood, his dad crying-.

“How was the drive, anyway?”, the Doc asked, as if he could read Peter’s thoughts. Dread had worked its way into the sorcerer’s usually steady voice, anxious hands shoved in the pockets of his cardigan to disguise the way they trembled with ghosts of rain slicked roads and smashed in windshields. 

“It was fine. Roads are bad, but I handled it. I was careful”, Peter promised, which wasn’t a complete lie. He noticed how his own tone was clipped short by anxiety, eyes burning as he was reminded of the feeling of skidding tires and the world spinning white around him. Wont to admit to his reckless behaviour just yet, Peter fidgeted with the hem of his sweatshirt as his eyes wandered from the Doc’s arms, to the floor, and back again. The sorcerer wasn’t nearly as physically affectionate or emotionally perceptive as Tony, more reserved in practically every aspect, but he knew when his boy needed a hug.

“Come here, spiderling”, the Doc rasped, holding his arms open and allowing Peter to dissolve in his embrace. Peter had never quite caught up to the sorcerer in terms of height, cheek smushed against his shoulder and linking his arms around the sorcerer’s broad chest, clad by the usual cardigan that smelled of tea and incense smoke. Years ago, those scents had been odd, but now Peter associated them with the deceivingly gentle sorcerer, reminding him of home just as much as the aroma of Tony’s casserole wafting through the kitchen did. Lulled by the familiar smells and the feeling of strong arms wrapped around him, and a gentle, magic-roughened hand resting on the nape of his neck, Peter felt his prickly, cemented eyes closing as the heavy darkness of sleep dragged him under, snapping awake again when he felt a gentle hand on his face. 

“When was the last time you slept, Mr. Parker? Let me look at you”, the Doc growled sternly with no room for argument, tilting Peter’s chin up with one finger so he was forced to make eye contact, and Peter’s heart constricted in his chest as perceptive silver eyes took in the bags under his eyes, his shrunken pupils, and the paleness of his tear-stained cheeks. “What happened?” His voice was softer now, but Peter could still hear the worry in the sorcerer’s flinty tone, hating the way each word dropped like a stone into a deep well in the sudden silence that had filled every nook and cranny of the kitchen. The lack of noise was deafening, soon replaced with the whirring of spinning tires in Peter’s ears as nausea rooted itself in his stomach. The Doc’s unsteady hands on his shoulders were the only thing still grounding him to reality, feeling the flood rise up in his chest just before it all spilled over in a rush.

“I-I almost crashed, Pops. I almost crashed th-the car on the highway. I was almost home and I was s-sliding on the ice and-.” Peter cut himself off with a gut-wrenching sob, taking a shuddering breath as his entire body shook with delayed fear. The Doc didn’t hesitate to pull him in against his front again, Peter’s deep sobs muffled against the sorcerer’s cardigan with his fingers bunched in the navy wool. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was so stupid. All I could think about was you always telling me to be careful driving, and how disappointed you would be if something bad happe-.”

“Hush now. None of that”, the Doc cut him off, clearly not prepared to have that conversation. Big, scarred hands shook even more than usual as he cupped the back of Peter’s head with one hand, pressing the teen’s forehead against his chest to prevent an oncoming panic attack. “Something bad could have happened, but it didn’t. You’re okay, Peter. All I care about is that you’re safe.” 

Guilt cementing itself in his chest, Peter could feel the sorcerer trembling with a suppressed panic attack, holding him a little tighter as if to stifle the anxiety they were both experiencing. Peter knew the Doc was just relieved that he hadn’t fallen asleep at the wheel, or ended up in the ditch, but the sorcerer’s anger was like a tsunami, buried deep under a seemingly calm surface until it was too late.

“Promise me that you’ll call me or your dad next time?”, the Doc asked suddenly, his entire body tensed with trauma- and worry-induced tremors as he pulled back to look Peter in the eyes. “Promise me that you’ll never do something so _stupid_ ever again.”

“I promise”, Peter whimpered brokenly, gutted by the harsh words as he untangled himself from the sorcerer’s embrace, looking up at him with wide, teary eyes. “I-I’m so sorry, Doc.”

“Please stop apologizing”, the sorcerer sighed as he pinched the bride of his nose, patience dwindling with his own mounting anxiety. “Apologies are useless if you end up dea-.”

“Hey, don’t grill the poor kid the second he gets in the door, Steph.” 

Peter whirled around at the sound of an achingly familiar voice, warm and raspy with sleep. He nearly dropped to his knees, making a small, strangled noise of relief when he saw Tony standing at the kitchen threshold, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed in socked feet and his flannel pyjama pants. Taj was still trailing down the stairs after Tony, claws clicking on the hardwood, while Levi was wrapped around the engineer’s shoulders, carefully fussing with his hair in an attempt to fix his bedhead. Despite their captivation with Tony’s appearance, the cloak quickly noticed that Peter was home and swooped over to wrap him up in an exuberant hug. 

“Hi, Levi. I missed you too, buddy”, Peter giggled quietly as the cloak’s collar brushed away the tears on his cheeks, petting Taj’s head gently as the large mutt circled him with a wagging tail and mouth open in a panting grin. Peter was instantly grounded by being able to bury his fingers in the dog’s thick ruff, as Taj had always been incredibly in tune to their emotions since the day the family made him theirs, but Peter was still feeling numb, grateful for Levi holding him up as he met Tony’s eyes. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, spider baby”, Tony grinned warmly, looking more grey than Peter remembered, but soft and sleepy as he had several days worth of silver stubble on his cheeks and was wearing one of the Doc’s sweaters, big enough that it fit over his cybernetic arm. Peter was jolted out of his reverential daze when his dad spoke and, despite his one blind eye, Tony immediately noticed the tears streaked down the teen’s face, along with the sorcerer’s stiff stance which alluded to his guilt.

“Oh, you made him cry already. Nice going, wizard”, Tony chuckled jokingly, though his concern was showing through in his good eye. Peter’s vision blurred again, tearing up as he was faced with Tony’s bright, familiar smile, and the engineer tilted his head to the side with a sympathetic pout. “Long time no see, Pete. Come give your old man a hug?” 

Those simple words were enough to break the dam as Peter clapped a hand over his own mouth, bursting into tears and taking shaky steps to meet Tony, breaking completely as he was swept up in a sturdy bear hug. After weeks of self-soothing or suppressing his emotions entirely, Peter cried his heart out as he clung to his dad for all he was worth, hands bunched in the soft fabric of his sweater, wishing that he never had to let him go again. 

“Now who’s making him cry?”, the Doc grumbled from somewhere behind them, though Peter could hear the guilt and pity in the sorcerer’s voice. Peter couldn't see the gently chiding look that Tony sent the Doc’s way, but he knew it was there, along with the silent question in his eyes asking what had happened to make their boy so upset. 

“Dad…”, Peter whined out in a garbled voice, unable to come up with anything more coherent to say with his face buried against Tony’s shoulder as he sobbed. Tony smelled like coffee, clean soap, and motor oil. He smelled like home. Relaxing in the soothing scent of safety, Peter’s shoulders shook as he fell apart, no longer needing to hold himself together now that his dad was there to do that for him. Strong arms, flesh and vibranium alike, were wrapped around his shoulders and ribcage, bodily holding Peter up as if he weighed no more than a baby and, after five weeks of little to no physical touch, a simple hug felt like heaven.

“Sshhhh, sshhh, I’ve got you, Petey. Oh, bambino, everything’s alright. I’ve got you”, Tony muttered soothingly, stubbled cheek resting against Peter’s head as he dropped a kiss against unruly curls every now and then. “You missed your dads, eh? That’s alright, we’ve got you now. You’re home, you’re safe. We’re gonna have some nice, relaxing time just the three of us before Christmas, alright? Before Hurricane Moguna gets here from her mom’s?”, Tony asked, rubbing Peter’s back and prompting a weak giggle from against his shoulder. “Yeah, she’s been talking about you nonstop, asking ‘when’s Petey getting here? When’s Petey coming home?’ She’s missed you tons, ya know? We’ve all missed you, kid.” 

Peter could have sobbed again from the genuine love shining through in Tony’s simple words, but realized he only felt contentment at being held safely in his dad’s arms, pressed against the warmth of his sweater and the softness of his belly, basking in all the love his dad had to offer. He couldn't imagine a safer place in all the world. 

“Cosa è successo, piccola? Sta bene? (What happened, babe? Is he okay?)”, he heard Tony ask the Doc, the engineer reverting to his mother tongue in hushed tones, as he knew Peter always felt guilty for worrying his father figures. That was one of the reasons Peter hadn’t asked them to visit his dorm or get a gateway for a weekend home in the past five weeks, all because he didn’t want to be a bother to the two men who already did so much for him. Peter had picked up enough Italian after years of knowing Tony, and his high school Europe trip, to know that Tony was asking what had happened to upset Peter so much. He also knew that Tony was smart enough to piece two and two together, considering Peter’s unexpected early arrival coupled with the abysmal weather, but instead focused on being a source of comfort for his boy in that moment, and Peter was grateful. 

“Te lo dico dopo. Ha bisogno di te adesso (I’ll tell you later. He needs you right now.)”, the Doc replied in a low rumble, also having picked up enough Italian from Tony to know the basics, gently dismissive of his partner’s worries for the time being. Peter was relieved that they didn’t have to talk about his reckless drive home yet, burying his face against his dad’s chest again. He couldn’t bear to break Tony’s heart when the old engineer had already experienced that far too many times, feeling Tony nod in acknowledgement at the sorcerer’s words as he gathered Peter closer against his chest. 

“I’m sorry, Dad”, Peter warbled out in a sudden wave of guilt, voice muffled against Tony’s sweater as he stifled another cry. 

“It’s okay, Pete, don’t apologize. Alright, I’ve got you, bambino ragno (spider baby)”, Tony soothed, fingers lacing through the teen’s hair in a repetitive, calming motion, beckoning the sorcerer closer with his cybernetic arm. “Vieni qui, amore mio (Come here, my love.)”. Even though he couldn’t see him, Peter could feel the taller man hesitate, mirroring Peter’s own guilt and anxiety before stepping forward to accept the invitation into his husband’s warm embrace. Always ready to comfort his family, Tony shifted to better accept the sorcerer into their group hug and Peter was relieved to feel the Doc wrap an arm around his shoulders as well, a silent sign of asking and giving forgiveness after his fearful outburst. Knowing that the sorcerer’s harsh words came from loving concern, Peter couldn’t find it within himself to hold a grudge especially since he knew that driving home in a blizzard while extremely sleep deprived had been an unnecessarily reckless move. Determined to wordlessly show his forgiveness, they were all standing close enough together that Peter could adjust his position, forehead resting on the sorcerer’s shoulder while he was still nestled comfortably against Tony’s chest. 

“I love you guys. I missed you so much”, Peter whispered, just barely loud enough to be audible, heart singing as he felt Tony’s grip around him tighten. With one arm, he held Peter tightly against his chest like he had made a habit of since the battle for Earth, giving the teen the soothing pressure he needed, while the engineer’s free arm slowly rubbed the Doc’s back in reassurance. 

“We love you too, spiderling”, the sorcerer assured, pressing a kiss against Peter’s forehead in a moment of innate tenderness, and the sting of his earlier words washed away. 

“I love both my boys, più di tutte le stelle della galassia”, Tony muttered, kissing both their cheeks and dissolving any remaining tension between the two of them. 

“I didn’t understand that last part”, Peter said, giggling at the familiar feeling of stubble rasping against his face in a prickly kiss, pulling back a little to wipe the tears from his own cheeks. Glancing at the Doc, Peter could tell by the lovesick look in the taller man’s eyes that he knew exactly what Tony had said.

“More than all the stars in the galaxy”, Tony clarified, shifting again to loop both arms around the Doc’s waist, pulling him in for a kiss as the sorcerer melted under his touch. In the beginning, Peter had been slightly uncomfortable with his father figures’ open displays of affection, but he’d had gotten used to it over the years, and it warmed something in his heart to see them both genuinely happy. 

“You’re such a big sap, Dad.”

“Mmmh? No, I’m just happy to have you both safely home”, Tony admitted as he pulled back from the dazed sorcerer’s lips, flashing Peter a warm grin. “It gives me some peace of mind to have everyone under the same roof again. Speaking of which, Harley’s going to be here on Thursday, and May confirmed she and Happy are still good to drive up for Christmas Eve. Until then, we’ve got a couple days with just the three of us, so I can focus all my attention on my two favourite boys”, Tony chuckled, peppering kisses all over his husband’s face as the sorcerer pretended to playfully struggle out of his grip.

“I thought Rhodey was your favourite”, the Doc countered teasingly, relinquishing a peck on Tony’s lips before being released from his loving embrace.

“Honey bear’s my brother, he doesn’t count. It’s different”, Tony explained, an amused glimmer in his eyes directed at the Doc as he started to guide him towards the kitchen. “Come help me with dinner, mio amore. And Petey-pie, bring your bag upstairs, get some cozy clothes on. Food will be on the table in ten minutes, okay?”, he said, dropping another kiss on the boy’s forehead before brushing past him to the kitchen, sorcerer in tow. 

“Okay, Dad. Thanks”, Peter smiled, feeling fuzzy from all the affection, though he was still a bit numb all over. He was reminded of his exhaustion as he grabbed his bag from where he’d dropped it by the front door, trudging upstairs to his bedroom and dumping the duffel bag on the end of his bed. Not trusting himself to sit on the bed as well without succumbing to the tempting pull of sleep, Peter instead grabbed a clean towel from the hall closet and padded to the bathroom, realizing how badly his hands were shaking from lack of sleep and food as he got undressed, though he took a second to proudly trace his top surgery scars. He registered that his body was feeling the effects of the past few weeks, as his enhanced metabolism meant that his accidental stress-induced fasting had had an even greater toll on his body than it would on a normal nineteen-year-old. 

Peter’s senses tingled distantly as he stepped under the hot water for a much needed shower, not willing to focus on remembering when the last time he actually showered was, but if his greasy hair was anything to go by, it had been a while. The hot water was also very efficient at driving out the not so distant memories of cold, driving snow, flashes of swirling white reflecting headlights visible behind Peter’s eyelids every time he closed his eyes. Determined not to fall asleep standing up in the shower, the teen shut the water off with a sigh, brusquely drying himself off, rubbing the towel over his face roughly as if to rid himself of the nightmarish images plastered to the backs of his eyelids. He nearly sobbed at the thought of another sleepless night, this time brought on by nightmares of his near accident, though he knew that both of his parents would do everything in their power to help him get to sleep if that was the case, and their methods worked more often than not. 

Drying his hair while walking back to his room, Peter remembered to send May a quick text to let her know that he was at the cabin safely. He hadn't been willing to let her know of his plans to drive back ahead of time, because she would have been even more insistent than Tony or the Doc that he stayed put at his dorm for the night. Tossing his phone on his bed, Peter rummaged through his dresser drawer for the worn grey MIT hoodie that had been Tony’s at some point, though the teen had gradually adopted it over the years. He pulled it on along with a t shirt and a pair of track pants, heading for the stairs and nearly tripping on Jarvis at the top of them. 

“Hey, JJ. How’ve you been, little girl?”, Peter asked the cat as he scooped her up in his arms, receiving a chirrup in response as the tabby nuzzled at his face, purring loudly all the while. Traipsing down the stairs, Peter noticed the distant lack of the familiar sound of his parents puttering and bickering around the kitchen, instead picking up the sound of hushed voices, tense with concern. 

Hugging Jarvis to his chest, Peter sat on the second to last bottom step where he was safely out of view from the kitchen, guilt twisting into the knot in his stomach as he listened to the Doc telling Tony about their son’s near car accident. Hot tears prickled at the teen’s eyes, letting them roll down his cheeks and into Jarvis’ fur as she continued purring, though intelligent yellow-green eyes were now watching Peter with concern. He could hear Tony’s voice, raspy and strained and on the verge of tears, and the Doc’s soothing baritone coaxing him to remain calm and focus on the positive, that Peter was alive and had gotten to the cabin safely. 

“I know he’s fine, mio amore (my love)”, Tony muttered wetly, voice low in a vain attempt to keep their conversation from Peter’s advanced hearing. “I just can’t help but think of what might have happened if-.”

“I know”, the Doc interjected quickly, clearly not ready to actually talk about it, now or ever. “Trust me, it’s all I’ve been thinking about since he walked in the door.” There was a pause that followed and Peter swore he could hear the beating of his own heart, a metallic taste coating his tongue as he realized he’d been biting the inside of his cheek. “Why didn’t he call us, Anthony? I thought he knew that he could call me for anything.” Swallowing his own blood thickly, the dejected sound in the sorcerer’s voice was enough to split Peter’s heart in two.

“Hey, this wasn’t your fault. Kid’s just too much like me sometimes”, Tony soothed with a weak chuckle, and Peter could hear the muffled sound of the sorcerer sniffing back tears. “He doesn’t like to put anyone out, even if he’s being a reckless idiot in the process. It hurts me to think about too, but the kid just wanted to come home, Steph, and he thought we’d keep that from happening because of the storm. I can’t blame him for that.”

“Neither do I. And I don’t blame him for not calling me in the first place. Why would he when I yelled at him the second he got home?” Tony didn’t have a chance to answer as Peter let Jarvis go from his arms before shooting up from his place at the foot of the stairs, making Taj jump up with surprise from where he was laying on the mat by the front door. 

“Peter-?”, the Doc asked, startled as he hastily wiped the tears from his own cheeks. He huffed softly as Peter impacted his chest with enough force to drive the air from his lungs, the teen’s enhanced strength coming into play as he wrapped his pops up in a tight hug, cheek pressed against his shaking shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Pops. I’m so sorry for not calling. I was tired and I wasn’t thinking straight, I wasn’t thinking at all”, Peter apologized into the wool of his cardigan in one breath, gritting his teeth in an attempt to withhold anymore tears. “You’re the best dad I could ask for. I’m just sorry you have such an idiot for a son.”

“You’re not an idiot”, the Doc said quickly, clicking his tongue in a chiding manner as Levi helped the sorcerer in pulling his boy closer against his chest, one shaking hand coming up to rest in Peter’s damp curls. “And I’m certainly not the best dad, but I suppose you could do worse.” Peter giggled softly at the sorcerer’s playful tone, chest flooded with content warmth as Levi ruffled his hair in a gesture that mimicked the Doc’s. 

“Hey, what about me? I thought I was your favourite dad”, Tony teased to lighten the mood, tickling Peter’s sides as the teen squirmed to escape his reach. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re okay. Even if you’re burning the casserole”, Peter beamed as he dodged a playful cuff to the back of his head, the pure joy he felt at being home with his family again momentarily overriding the extreme exhaustion dragging at every fibre of his being. The Doc intercepted before they got into a play fight, prompting Tony to save the casserole while he and Peter set the table for dinner. 

The familiar Italian casserole, one of the dishes Tony had learned from his mother long ago, was a warm melody of aromas and flavours that easily soothed Peter’s frayed nerves. The mixture of sausage, spaghetti, ricotta cheese, and tomato tasted like home, a welcome cacophony of rich flavours after living on ramen noodles and black coffee for longer than he’d ever admit. What brought him a sense of peace even more than the comfort food, was the presence of his dads sitting on either side of him at the kitchen table, their usual banter and warmth surrounding him pleasantly and infiltrating all the anxiety that had been camped out in his body for the past three weeks. 

By the time they finished dinner, Peter was pleasantly full after a second helping of casserole, though the Doc had stopped him from getting a third for fear of hurting his stomach after not eating well for so long. Peter begrudgingly complied, though he noticed that Tony gave him an extra large slice of the chocolate cake they had for dessert, passing the plate over with a sly wink that was undetected by the stern sorcerer. After finishing dessert, Peter was banished from the kitchen, his offer to help with dishes quickly shut down as Tony herded him towards the couch, clearly planning to provide some cuddling that the teen had sorely missed in the past month or so. 

Peter settled onto the couch more than willingly, drawing his legs up under himself and sinking back into the plush cushions. It was the first time in months that he’d both mentally and physically relaxed, succumbing to being taken care of as Tony draped a blanket over him and tucked the edges in, dropping a kiss on Peter’s forehead.

“You happy to be home, bambino (kid)?”, Tony asked as he settled beside him on the couch, good eye twinkling with a grin as he wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. Peter immediately gravitated to lean against his dad’s side, losing himself in the comfort and warmth of his familiar embrace as he nuzzled against the engineer’s good shoulder. 

“Yeah. I missed you. School sucks”, Peter grumbled into his shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of dish soap and industrial grade hand cleaner that seemed to linger around the engineer constantly these days. Tony split his time between housework and tinkering in the garage, his habits showing up in the scents which consumed him, a representation of how he’d been able to seamlessly combine his role of a dad with his career as an engineer. 

“Oh, kiddo, I know”, Tony chuckled sympathetically, pressing a few prickly kisses against the teen’s temple as he pulled him closer. “It does suck sometimes, but you do so well. Just make sure to reach out to me and your Pops more if you need it, okay? We don’t want you to feel stranded all the way over there.” Something in Tony’s face softened as he looked over to where his husband was filling the dishwasher with the help of a few levitation spells. “You know that old wizard seems like a hard ass, but he’d do anything for you. He’d portal to your dorm in a heartbeat if you asked him.”

“Gateway”, Peter corrected groggily, doing so automatically after years of hearing the Doc do so, and earning a soft chuckle from his dad. “And I know he would. I just don’t want to bother you guys.”

“You never bother us, spider baby”, Tony assured in a rasp, adjusting his position on the couch so he was laying lengthwise on it and brought Peter with him. He guided his boy to nestle beside him in a comfortable cocoon provided by multiple blankets and couch cushions, and Peter’s sleepy mind gravitated back to his dad’s warmth without question. “Sei la luce della mia vita, e ciò che fa battere il mio cure”, he muttered against Peter’s hair, a phrase in Italian that had become familiar over the years, meaning ‘You’re the light of my life, and what keeps my heart beating.’ “You could never be a bother to either one of us. Right, Stephers?” 

Peter felt the sofa cushions dip with added weight, turning this face slightly from where it had been wedged between Tony’s shoulder and chest to see that the sorcerer had joined them on the couch. The Doc looked warm and grey in his cardigan, with Levi draped around his shoulders as he curled up on the other end of the sofa, blue opal eyes softening in the low light as he’d clearly just caught the tail end of their conversation.

“Of course not. You’re never a bother to us, son”, the Doc assured steadily as he lifted Peter’s legs so his feet where resting in the sorcerer’s lap, all of the stoic, rigid lines of his body softening now that his anxiety had worn away. “We just want to help you when we can, and guide you when we can’t. All I ask is that you call us when you're having a hard time, because there’s no shame in that.”

“I always call you guys, it was just this one time”, Peter reasoned as hot tears prickled his eyes, hiding his face against Tony’s sweater again. 

“I know, sweetheart”, the sorcerer assured softly, attentive, doctor’s hands tucking the blanket under Peter’s feet as he met his eyes again with understanding. “And we’re always glad when you do. Your dad wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you and Harley didn’t call, he’d drive himself stir crazy.”

“I entertain myself just fine”, Tony said suddenly despite seeming like he’d been asleep seconds ago, slightly offended as he pried one eye open to glare at the sorcerer.

“Yes, you certainly entertain yourself”, the Doc chuckled before turning to look at Peter with an amused grin. “I had to drag him out of the garage yesterday after he’d been in there all day without eating. I’m sorry to say, Peter, but you’ve certainly picked up all your bad habits from him. I sometimes still find it hard to believe that the two of you aren’t related by blood.”

“Blood doesn’t have anything to do with it. I’ve spent enough time around him that a lot of it has just rubbed off on me”, Peter giggled as he poked Tony’s side teasingly, eliciting a grunt from the engineer as he glowered at his son playfully.

“I know the feeling”, the Doc muttered affectionately, sending his husband a quick wink to show that he was only teasing. 

“You’re both so mean to me. You make me sound like a terrible influence”, Tony complained groggily, giving Peter’s side a playful poke in return as they both simultaneously noticed that the teen’s body was still rigid with residual anxiety. Peter made a conscious effort to loosen his muscles as the engineer continued on in a sleepy grumble. “And you're a hypocrite, Doc. You know it. Inoltre, sono molto meglio di prima. Mi piace pensare di aver cambiato i miei modi da quando ho avuto figli. (Besides, I'm much better than I used to be. I'd like to think I've changed my ways since having kids.)” Peter didn’t understand more than a couple words of what Tony said, but he could mostly tell from his dad’s tone that there had been a change from his teasing words of before. 

“I didn’t get any of that, darlin’”, the Doc admitted with a bemused look, pulling his husband’s socked feet into his lap as well and massaging them gently with the help of a simple spell. “I have a hard time keeping up with Italian even when you aren’t sleep-deprived.”

“Non posso aiutare se ho sonno. Leri sera russavi come una motosega (I can't help if I'm sleepy. You were snoring like a chainsaw last night.)”, Tony grumbled with his eyes half closed and one stubbled cheek mushed against Peter’s curls, further proving the sorcerer’s point. 

“Oh, I sounded like a chainsaw last night, did I?”, the Doc said with a bark of laughter, one sharp brow raised with an amused smirk that made his eyes twinkle mischievously. “I’d say that’s the pot calling the kettle black, tesoro (darling). Besides, it’s your own fault you’re sleepy after pulling an all nighter last night. No wonder you just napped for three hours and you’re still tired.” Despite his scolding words, Peter knew that the sorcerer’s doctor instincts came through even after years of not practicing, and any harping he did came from a place of love, especially when it came to his husband who lacked basic self-preservation skills. 

“Because you kept me up with your snoring, asshole”, Tony said as lovingly as you could call someone else an asshole, snapping awake enough to revert back to English.

“Enough fighting, you two. I’m trying to sleep”, Peter whined with mock disgruntlement, his parent’s familiar banter actually helping lull him to sleep. Tony’s voice was like a warm, rolling melody deep in his chest beside Peter’s ear, mixing in with the smooth granite tones of the sorcerer’s baritone, the sweetest lullaby after only hearing their voices over the phone for weeks on end.

“Hmm, sorry, Underoos”, Tony muttered sympathetically, wrapping both arms around his boy’s shoulders and pulling him closer so that Peter was half lying on top of him. “Quit hounding us, Doc, you’re keeping my baby boy awake”, he said, giving the sorcerer a sleepy wink even as his eyelashes were fluttering shut again. 

“Well, I’ll just have to keep myself occupied while you two catch up on some rest”, the sorcerer replied with a grin, voice hushed as he pulled a book from the coffee table with a faint glimmer of gold magic. He leaned back into the sofa cushions with his reading glasses perched on his nose, a sight that Peter had become well-accustomed with, enough to know that his pops would be falling asleep sitting up not long after. Drowning in contentment and prompted by Tony’s hand on the back of his neck, Peter wrapped himself, limbs and all, around his dad’s sturdy frame, naturally gravitating to the warmth he provided as the teen’s thermal regulation was extremely poor, especially in the winter. 

“Thanks, Levi”, Peter mumbled as the cloak floated over from the Doc’s shoulders and wrapped around he and Tony instead, as if the intuitive relic could sense the slight chill edging at the corners of the room as night fell. Their heavy fabric was better than any weighted blanket, incredibly soft as they gently brushed against Peter’s cheek, and best of all they shared the same scent as their master, like tea and the ethereal stardust of magic. 

Surrounded by the two people (and one cloak) he loved most in the world was enough to make warmth blossom in Peter’s chest, listening to Tony’s breaths becoming more even as the teen finally allowed himself to succumb to the darkness that had been pulling at his eyelids relentlessly. Being wedged between the back of the sofa and the engineer’s soft belly was like heaven for combatting the sensory overload the teen’s enhanced senses had been experiencing lately, a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders grounding him to this plane of reality, and giving him a break from dissociating every five seconds.

“I love you, Dad”, Peter whispered just before sleep took over completely, mind hazy and eyes heavy as he listened to the steady beating of his dad’s heart beside his ear. 

“Ti amo anch’io, ragazzo (I love you too, kid.)”, Tony whispered back, and Peter had heard those words enough times to know exactly what they meant. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated! <3 Hope this fluffy fic can provide a bit of comfort in these trying times.


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